In a weird mood today.
I've been forgetting to take my meds in the morning, so that could explain the blah-ness. Also, the university wont turn the AC on until later in the month, so it's hot as hell in my room and the local farmers just put out their new batch of manure. Hot weather + cow poop = agitated Berkeley.
I spent a great break with Cody and my family, but because I've been down I feel like I've taken my time with them for granted. I apologize compulsively because I feel so ashamed. But then I feel even more stressed and embarrassed due to my major insecurities. I feel great one day, destructive the next. I hate these old feelings coming up again. Just when I thought I had nixed the negativity and knee-jerk self-trashing it bubbles up to the surface again. I don't know what to do about it. I know I could easily talk myself out of it, but when it gets to a certain point, it almost feels like a comfortable blanket that protects me and keeps me warm. It's pretty counter-productive to therapy to constantly hold on to your depression. The most frustrating of all is that I understand the many blessings I have in my life, yet still find it incredibly hard to be happy. I find myself being more and more judgmental and hypocritical. I can't take my own advice. I can't shut up. I can't say what I feel. I have no creative outlet to turn to because I compare it to the immense skills of others; if my product isn't perfect, then I can't get myself to do it. It's very stupid, but it's how my brain works.
There's actually a part of me that feels terrified to get over my depression because I have become accustomed to thinking that it defines me and makes me....special, almost. Again, I understand how messed up that it, but it's very hard to rearrange my psyche. I have no idea what it would feel like to have confidence in myself and my appearance. What would it mean to stop having this crutch? I mean, that's essentially what it is. The weekend I spent playing four-square with Kate&Jon&Cody was probably the best weekend, mood-wise, I've had all semester. It felt wonderful, and I know I am capable of that freedom and joy. Even Cody remarked on how different I seemed. But I guess I feel like if those days arrive, I will embrace them happily, but it feels physically exhausting to try and achieve that level of happiness each day. I always let something stupid weigh me down, whether it be people I know, people I don't know, people I wish I didn't know, and the people in my head that tell me all those terrible things about myself (and man, are they convincing!).
I'm straight up terrified of next semester. Not for the daunting task of Senior Seminar or coming to the realization that the freedom and carefree lifestyle of college is coming quickly to a close, but because of this little pre-pubescent looking asshole who is coming back from abroad. He treated me like shit, saying some of the most out-of-left-field and hurtful things ever said to me last summer in a forum in which all of my friends witnessed the carnage. And out of like 7 of them, only one, who I'm not at all close to, actually comforted me. I feel a little shame in harboring this intense anger and pain for this long over something that seems silly from a different perspective...I guess it requires more backstory. But no one actually reads this blog, so I can save the details for the daily rehashing I do in my head. Anyways, it destroyed me that my friends (who had repeatedly told me how much they disliked this little shit) refused to back me up or even ask how I was doing. Not only that, but during the semester they continued a super buddy-buddy friendship with him and didn't give a shit when, after 7 months of not talking to me he sent me an email that read: "Not going abroad=big mistake. HUGE". Probably because they realized I knew they'd been fucking gossiping about me. Seriously guys, get a hobby. My life isn't that interesting. If anyone, ANYONE talked to any of them like that, I would've immediately stood up for them. Because to me, friendship means loyalty. You know, like the kind I gave to you when you spent a year fucking your professor's husband and then needed my support; or standing up for you when everyone else tried to tell me you were a pretentious bitch; etc. They're all so fucked up and self-absorbed that I guess I shouldn't expect compassion or whatever. Just thinking about this situation and their existence makes me so upset that I have to give myself pep-talks. How ridiculous is that? Since when is my skin this thin? Why do I constantly let them have so much control over me/my feelings? I waste so much time getting angry and postulating about the shit they say about me behind my back, and all the gossip they're spreading; I've got some substantial paranoia issues. A lot of times I feel like I've wasted 3.5 years and thousands of dollars at this place. It's made me jaded and tired. I have the irresistible urge to harm myself, but then my goodie-twoshoes side shows up and I can never get much farther then pulling my hair out and picking my nails/fingers until they bleed. I'm sure those girls find it hilarious that I can't even hurt myself as well as they can. Sigh...I hate my stupid thought processes.
Anyways, I have a paper to write for tomorrow. I promise that one day I'll write a positive, uplifting blog entry. Probably next month when I move in with my lovely man. :)
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